


Fireside: Conversations Between Ben & Rey

by itslaurenmae



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars - The Last Jedi - Fandom, Star Wars Episode VIII, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Force Bond, Force Bond (Star Wars), Kinda not, Movie: Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, The Force, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslaurenmae/pseuds/itslaurenmae
Summary: Before going to sleep at night, they’d talk.“Ben?”“Yeah.”“Tell me about him.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Update 1/2/18: When I first posted Fireside, I intended for it to be a one-shot. It didn't stay a one-shot.
> 
> What I've written/am writing is a series of conversations between Rey and Ben through their Force Bond, at night before falling asleep. They are not chronological. 
> 
> I'll continue updating my notes here if any of that changes, but as of today, this is what I'm doing. Drop a comment if you have questions (or suggestions) - thanks for reading my work!
> 
>  
> 
> 12/31/17: Thanks for reading my first one-shot! This is the first piece of fic I've written for this fandom and wanted to share, because I can't stop thinking about that handhold, and I know I'm not the only one.

Before going to sleep at night, they’d talk. 

“Ben?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about him.”

“About Luke?”

“Yeah. What was he like?”

She was laying on her side, hair in her face. He wasn’t there, not really anyway, but he was sitting on the edge of his bed, not in his armor or his mask. Just black trousers, a loose shirt. No shoes. Elbows on his knees. 

“Well, he was my uncle.”

“I know that.”

“I mean, he was my uncle before he was my teacher.”

She blinked back at him, signaling him to continue.

“He was Luke Skywalker. Master Jedi. The man who saved the galaxy.” He blinked and looked off into the distance. “He was this legend and he was my uncle. People whispered about him whenever we walked around outside.”

He sounded almost wistful. She tried to picture Ben as he’d once been, as a young boy, so much younger and childlike than the volatile man she saw before her. He probably had the same curly dark hair, more unkempt that it was now, ears too big for his head. The thought made her smile.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked.

“I’m imagining what you were like when you were a boy,” she grinned. 

He looked at her quizzically, then stood up and turned away. “I don’t remember much about it.”

She sat up. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t remember much about being a boy.” When he turned back to face her, she felt a pang radiate through her chest. Before she even knew what was happening, she was seeing for herself firsthand what he meant, flashes of his past.

She saw Ben, by himself, no more than 7 or 8 years old, playing outside. Hours and hours and hours went by, days and days and days, so many days. Ben by himself. Ben in his childhood bedroom reading all night. Ben walking alone, preparing food alone, eating alone. Alone in the day, alone in the night. Alone, alone, alone.

“Where were your parents?” she asked in a whisper.

“Busy,” he responded curtly, avoiding her eye contact. This was something that hurt him. Not Kylo Ren, but Ben Solo, the boy, the son, the nephew.

Rey remembered all the things she’d heard about Ben’s parents – how they saved the world from falling into complete darkness, from being overtaken by the Empire. His mother had gone on to have a successful political career, advising diplomatic missions, becoming a renowned General. And his father? An enigmatic man, never wont for work, for adventure.

And Ben? Ben was alone. 

His parents had been so concerned about raising the Republic that they’d neglected to raise him. They sent him to be with Luke because they were busy. They had things to do, a cause to continue. He was a footnote. 

At least, that’s how he was showing it to her now, explaining it wordlessly by sharing his memories, opening his mind.

She pushed a fallen strand of hair out of her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, thinking about her own childhood. She’d been alone, too. 

That’s what he meant when he said he’d felt it too, back when he’d first tried to pluck information out of her, not so long ago. He saw how lonely she’d been in her memories. He knew how that felt.

“I was alone too.” She started to stand up but thought better of it. “But you already know that.” Now she was the one that looked away.

Neither of them said anything for a while. They had been alone as children. During the years they should have had memories of affection, of love, of acceptance, the formative years of their life… they’d both been so alone. The only child. The forgotten child. The unknown. The no one.

It was silent for a long while, the fire crackling between them, their sadness suspended in the air. In some ways, she and Ben were still alone. Right now, they were alone together. 

“I’m sorry I don’t have any stories for you,” he finally said, returning to sit on his bed.

“It’s okay,” she responded, crossing her ankles under her. “I don’t have any for you, either.”

More silence, but this time, no avoided eye contact. “Why do you think we’re able to talk like this?” she finally asked.

“The Force. You have it. I have it. It’s strong in us.”

Her heart skipped a beat when he said “us.” Hearing Ben say “us” made sense, an odd sort of sense she’d never felt before.

“I don’t know why, but when I was down in that Dark Place, as soon as I got out, the first thing I wanted to do was come back up here,” she nodded to the walls of her hut, “and tell you. Far cry from ‘I’m not telling you anything,’ yeah?” She failed to suppress the grin slowly spreading over her face.

“Yeah,” he responded. He was making eye contact again. 

Maybe it was the light, or the shadows, or how late it was at night, but the scar on his face looked less angry. She’d given him that scar. He’d have it the rest of his life, a reminder, right there, every time he met someone, every time she'd look on his face, every time he saw his reflection, he’d see what she’d done to him.

“Ben?”

“Rey.”

She let out a breath she hadn’t know she was holding in. 

“Good night,” she choked out.

She rolled back onto her side, facing away from him. She didn't want to be this vulnerable right now. And she knew that he could tell how she was feeling, and for a moment, she hated that.

The tears started falling, quietly. 

"Rey."

A sniffle.

"Rey," more intentionally announced this time.

"Goodnight," she repeated again, voice quavering. Damn it.

"Rey," it was closer this time. She rolled over to see him kneeling next to her cot, the shadows from the fire splaying around his face and onto the walls. 

She didn't say anything, just turned to face him. Still clutching herself in a fetal position, she tried to stay small, as if she could make one or the other of them disappear.  
He looked at her like, well... like no one had ever looked at her before. She'd always been a nobody, no one, no name, just Rey. And right now, without his usual garb and no mask and no gloves and warm light, he was just Ben Solo. And he was looking at her like he wanted to make all of the pain go away.

It scared her. 

She shuddered and clamped her eyes shut, trying to make herself invisible. The tears still escaped, betraying her.

"Rey," he softly said, reaching out to touch her face. She swore she could hear his heart beating, steady, rhythmic, intrepid. He said her name more like it was a benediction, something consecrated or holy. She opened her eyes and bit her lip, uncurling a little.

His hand was stretched toward her face, but he hadn't touched her. She didn't know what he was trying to do, but she knew what he wasn't doing - he wasn't probing her mind, trying to extract information or meddling in her deepest, darkest thoughts. No, he was kneeling in front of her, hand tenderly extended, as if asking permission to be exactly where he was.

"Ben," she whispered, more silent tears welling in her eyes. She'd been lonely for so, so long. She didn't know if he was really there in the flesh, if this was really happening, but at that moment, she wanted it to be real. The look in his eyes was pleading, not for mercy and not for permission, but for safety. She gulped as she felt his fingers brush the fallen hair from her face and tuck it swiftly behind her ear. 

Her heart was in her throat. 

She didn't want him to fade away, didn't want to feel so empty. His hand slid down to cradle her cheek. She reached her own hand up and placed it over his. God this felt good. This simple, intentional act of human contact. Of seeing and being seen. It was the most powerful thing she'd ever experienced, even more powerful than when they'd split the earth the first time they’d crossed lightsabers.

There weren't words, there just weren't. She closed her eyes and leaned into Ben's hand, relaxing her forehead and exhaling another held breath. The intensity of her cowered position had evaporated. Is this what peace felt like?

When she opened her eyes again, Ben's were closed. It was like all of the sound had faded out of the room, like the air had collapsed around them and their shared breathing was the only thing keeping each other alive. There were just the two of them, and nobody else.

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped as Ben's forehead made contact with her own. She felt warm all over - not a sinful kind of warm, not a flush of embarrassment, but safe. Seen. 

"You're not alone," he said lowly, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone, his head still resting on hers. "Not anymore."

This man. This man of few words, who said more in anger than he ever did in haste, this man who chose what he said so carefully, who tried to hide behind a mask... this was not that man. 

This was someone else. Someone sadder, someone mournful, someone who understood, someone who was so much more present than anything she'd held onto in her young life. He felt more real here now than the thought of her parents ever did. 

She swallowed again and breathed out, "Neither are you."

The next time she opened her eyes, it was morning, and she was awake. The fire was just embers, and she thought she'd dreamt the whole thing.

But then, she saw the footprints in the dirt, the long indents from where his legs had been, and she knew it hadn't been a dream. It was real, as real as her own heartbeat, as real as the dawn. 

She smiled to no one in particular, allowing herself a lazy moment to sit and bask in the warmth of the interaction, before she heard Luke's footsteps outside his hut and snapped out of her reverie.

There were things she needed to do, and she was going to do them. Luke be damned.

She stood up, careful not to disrupt the footprints, grabbed her staff, and made her way to the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ben?"
> 
> "Yeah."
> 
> He was there. Good.
> 
> "Tell me about her."
> 
> "Who?"
> 
> "The first girl you kissed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/1/18: Whoops, looks like Fireside isn't a one-shot after all! Guess I'll need to retool the title!
> 
> Thanks to you all for your kind words, kudos, and hits - I'm going to keep writing Rey & Ben like this.
> 
> Enjoy!

Rey sensed him from the moment she tucked herself under the covers of her cot, but didn't say anything at first. Maybe she was imagining it.

A few long moments passed, but it felt like forever. Finally, she broke the silence.

"Ben?"

"Yeah."

_He was there. Good._

"Tell me about her."

"Who?"

"The first girl you kissed."

It was night again, and they were both in their respective chambers - he on his ship, she in her hut on Ach-To. They spoke in hushed tones, even though there probably wasn't need to.

She heard him release a heavy sigh at the ceiling.

"What?" she asked, sitting up and looking over at him, stretched out on his back, so tall his bed hardly seemed to contain him.

"Why would you want to know about that?" he said.

"I don't know," she said. "I was thinking about what you were like when you were a boy. I know how I felt about boys when I was a girl."

It wasn't like they hadn't had exchanges like this before - they'd talked a bit about their childhoods before. About the silly childhood stories they believed were true, songs embedded in their memories. They'd both blocked so much of their childhoods out in the name of self-preservation. Rediscovering it together made it less scary. Doing anything together seemed less scary, at least to Rey, it did.

She wondered if he felt the same but hadn't asked.

"You go first then," he said, rolling on his side to face her.

"Okay," she giggled. "I was ten. This boy with sandy blonde hair was passing through the market with his family. They must have been traders or something... He sat down at the stall where I'd clean what I salvaged while his parents were off haggling somewhere. I pretended to be really busy cleaning, but he saw me looking at him. We kind of just... looked at each other back and forth for awhile," she chuckled. "And when his mother called his name, he kissed me on the cheek before running to join his family again."

Ben hadn't said anything. She propped herself up with her elbow.

"This must sound so stupid to you."

"No," Ben said. "It's just..."

"What? Silly?"

"No." His hair fell in his face as he chuckled. "It just doesn't really count."

"What do you mean?" she said, playfully indignant. "Of course it does. No one else had kissed me before."

"It's just," he started again. "It's just not what I thought we were talking about."

"What do you mean?" Rey asked, sitting up in bed, drawing her knees up to her chest.

"I mean, you asked me about the first girl I kissed, I didn't think about the little girl I held hands with during storytime."

Rey cocked her head to the side, waiting for him to continue. "Oh. Well, go on, then."

"Okay," he answered, looking up at her from under his hair. "Only if you're certain." His tone had taken on an almost playful air.

"Of course I'm certain!" she grinned back at him. "Tell me about her. I'm all ears."

"Well, she was a year older than me."

"Ooooh, heartbreaker," Rey teased.

"Not even close," Ben deadpanned. "I was so damn awkward as a kid. I mean, I had huge ears, and a big nose, and freckles, and my arms and hands and legs were too big for the rest of me."

Rey snickered. "Oh please, I'm sure you weren't that bad. You probably didn't smell like dirt and leave a scatter of dust every time you walked somewhere."

"As I was saying," he continued, making a show of carrying on, "her name was Liara and she was a year older than me. And I don't know why, but whenever we were supposed to be reading in the library in pairs, she always picked me. I didn't get it at all." He was sitting up now, facing toward her, feet flat on the floor. He brushed his hair out of his face. "I mean, she was tall and smart and beautiful and older and I was this gawky kid who hadn't grown into his body yet."

She was grinning like an idiot at him. "But she liked you."

"Yeah, I guess she did," he smiled back at her, resting one side of his face in his hand, elbow propped on his knee. "I don't remember what day it was or what we were supposed to be reading, but we were sitting next to each other. Next thing I know, she's pulling me behind the stacks and asking me if I've ever kissed a girl before, and I'm sweating and choking on my words and trying to sound cool. She saw right through it," he smiled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

Rey snickered but didn't say anything. That may have been the most words he'd said in one fell swoop, and she didn't want him to stop talking. He just seemed so normal, talking like this.

"I was trying to act more worldly than I was, and mid-sentence, she just -" he paused and sat straight up, "pulled my shirt so we were _this_ close and said, 'Shut up, Ben.'" He mimed the action. "And she kissed me. I was so shocked I didn't even close my eyes, I didn't even kiss her back, I didn't even know what was going on, it was a wreck."

They both laughed then, a warm sound that filled up the space between them. As it faded, sadness fell over his face.

"What is it?"

He pursed his lips and stiffened his posture. "She's dead."

Rey gulped, knowing exactly the direction this was going.

"Ben, you don't have to-"

"Yes, Rey. I do," he snapped back. "She died because I killed her. The night I burned Luke's temple down. I killed her like I killed everyone else that night. I didn't even think about her, or anyone else, when I did." He didn't sound sorry, and he didn't even sound angry, either. He said it as a matter-of-fact, clinical, detached. All of the warmth faded out of his eyes, the shadows from the firelight falling darkly around him.

Rey didn't know how to respond. Sure, she'd had a less than stellar childhood herself, but what had happened to him, what he'd done... that was different from her.

She stood up and crossed over to his side of her hut, plopped down next to him, and reached for his hand.

He didn't look at her, but he did squeeze her fingers when she laced them through his. A long moment passed.

He took her hand in both of his, then, and brought them up to his lips. She pulled in a quick breath, more so in surprise than outright shock. His hands were so warm, and his kiss was so... kind. She couldn't stop the heat from rising to her cheeks.

She bit her lip, unsure of what to say or do next. He lowered their hands back to balance on top of his leg, running his thumb back and forth over her wrist.

"I..." she started to say something directionless, something just to fill the silent space between them.

He looked straight at her, one thousand percent present, even though he had to be half a galaxy away. He squeezed her hand again, then let go.

In one swift movement, he'd dropped her hand, laid back down, and turned away from her.

Before she could call his name again, he was gone.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been a particularly bad day.
> 
> Zero words had passed between her and Luke. Plenty of scowling, but no words.
> 
> She sat back down on her cot, snack in hand, legs crossed, when she sensed him. He seemed to be swearing under his breath, talking to himself, maybe? 
> 
> "Ben?" she interrupted, unable to see him just yet.
> 
> "Yeah."
> 
> He popped into her sight. Okay. So he was there. Again. Pacing, looking exhausted and frustrated.
> 
> She quickly nodded in acknowledgment and returned to her food.
> 
> "Aren't you going to ask me one of your questions?" he asked coldly.
> 
> "No, not after how you sound right now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/5/18: Saw TLJ for the second time, and I'm not even sure how it's possible, but I loved it even more on this repeat viewing. Thematically, it may be my favorite of the entire Star Wars saga. 
> 
> Enjoy this next chapter of Ben and Rey's fireside conversations.

It had been a particularly bad day.

Zero words had passed between her and Luke. Plenty of scowling, but no words.

The only relief from the drudgery was that the Caretakers had prepared a hut for her to sleep in. It seems they'd come to the conclusion that she wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. At least, she figured it was the Caretakers that put this place together for her, since Luke didn't seem to care for or consider anyone besides himself. Still, the fact that anyone had noticed she wasn't leaving had to count for something. She didn't have to sleep outside Luke's hut on that slab anymore.

It felt good and familiar to light a fire in the middle of the room. It got so cold during the night on Ach-To, and while she could have sauntered down to the Falcon anytime she felt like it for sleep, she wanted to make it clear to Luke that she was going to be up in his business, chipping away at his resolve until he gave her something, anything.

She rested her staff just beside her stony cot before kicking off her boots. She lit the fire quickly, her fingers easily remembering how to strike flint from all of those nights spent alone on Jakku. Once she was satisfied with the catch of the flames, she collapsed onto the bed, tired and sore from an afternoon of training.

She fell asleep fully clothed and didn't wake up until the dead of night. She'd missed her evening meal, and she was hungry. She went rummaging through her meager rations for something to eat.

Upon finding a snack, she sat back down on her cot, legs crossed under her. She'd taken one bite when she sensed him. He seemed to be swearing under his breath, talking to himself, maybe?

"Ben?" she interrupted, unable to see him just yet.

"Yeah."

He popped into her sight. _Okay. So he was there. Again._ Pacing, looking exhausted and frustrated.

She quickly nodded in acknowledgment and returned to eating.

"Aren't you going to ask me one of your questions?" he asked coldly.

"No, not after how you sound right now." She could sense he needed to blow off steam. She could practically smell the restlessness radiating off of him.

"I just want a night of solid sleep," he sighed in frustration. "But no, apparently when the Force knows you're awake, I'm awake, too."

"You can't sleep, can you?" No response.

She knew the answer. He didn't have to say it. And she knew he wouldn't because he so desperately wanted to be the one always in control, and because he was a man of few words, and because he could probably sense that she'd already sussed him out.

She finished her late night snack in silence. He was still too caught up in whatever was on his mind to say anything.

Rey stood up and reached for her canteen. She poured water onto her hands, then splashed her face. She shrugged off her vest using it as a makeshift towel.

Still, no words. They were clearly connected right now, so surely the Force had opened at this time for a reason. She'd shown up in the middle of his reflections, woken up out of an unintentional sleep. There had to be purpose in that. Maybe she didn't know very much about how the Force worked, but she trusted it all the same.

The silence wasn't abnormal for Rey - she'd spent countless nights getting ready for sleep alone on Jakku, so she began preparing herself for a proper stretch of sleep. She crossed to her bag and stashed her vest there. She pulled off her arm and knee guards, and donned a clean pair of socks. She returned to her cot and began undoing the coils of her hair.

Rey's hair was a right mess by the end of each day on Ach-To. Between the winds and the sea and the sweating from training, she didn't bother to try and tame it until the end of the day.

She hummed absentmindedly to herself as she worked the knots out with her fingers. She looked up at him a few times to find him still pacing, frustration wafting off of him like fumes.

Once she'd brushed each of her three buns out, she began to wind all of hair on top of her head. Upon securing her hair into a knot, she decided to lay down, curling into a fetal position.

"What, you're not going to talk to me?" He finally said.

"I think you're the one that needs to talk tonight, Ben," she answered cooly, making eye contact with him.

He stopped dead in his tracks. "But I don't want to do this right now."

She didn't believe him. "I don't think it's a matter of want."

Rey had accepted that this was just part of her life now, this bond with Ben. Some nights, right before she fell asleep, she could sense him. Sometimes, they'd wordlessly exchange a glance. Or she'd get a fuzzy vision of him walking away, or kneeling by her bed. Maybe those were real things, maybe they were dreams. Whatever the case, she didn't feel afraid to fall asleep while the bond was open, and tonight was no exception.

"I woke up at an odd time, and you clearly haven't slept, so there must be something you need," she added.

"Where are you?" He took a few steps forward. "I can't see where you are."

"I'm in my hut."

"No, I mean where _are_ you? What planet?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You could."

"I won't."  
  
He huffed and ran his hands through his hair.

"This is of no use to me." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "Whatever this is."

Sure. "Well, good night then," she replied, not here for the charade. She turned to face away from him when he spoke again.

"Rey."

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't know why, but each time he said her name, it sounded like a petition, a prayer.

"Ben."

As she rolled to face him, she was immersed in the overwhelming ache of his soul. He was lonely. Even after all the years of trying to harden himself, of training, of trying to please Snoke or the ghost of his grandfather, he was still so utterly alone.

"I'm not going anywhere," she affirmed his wordless request, offering a closed-lipped half-smile.

She snuggled into her pillow. The light from the fire was beginning to wane.

He finally took a seat on his bed and silently began to remove his gloves. Rey watched him like a teacher overseeing a pupil, as if making sure he was doing it correctly. He moved with intent, freeing his hands one at a time, and as he did, she couldn't help but think about what those hands could feel like. On her cheek. In her own.

His shoes were next. They were much more complicated than her roughshod boots. Where hers were simple and utilitarian, his were all laces and knots, intricate and sophisticated. It was taking so long for him to get them off, she felt she'd drift off right then.

When he suddenly stood to remove his shirt, the flash of his skin caught her eye in the darkness.

She could see his scar with perfect clarity. It didn't just run down the side of his face like she initially thought it had. No, the scar she'd given him stretched down the plane of his neck and over his collarbone, down into the right side of his chest.

She really had gotten him good back on Starkiller.

She'd marked him. _Like he was hers._

The thought sent a chill down her spine.

Surely, she hadn't been the only person that had left scars on his body. Rey felt ashamed as soon as she had the thought - that she'd take any kind of pleasure in knowing that she wasn't the first person to have reconstituted the expanse of his skin.

"Does it hurt?" she asked after he'd gotten into his own bed, blinking heavily.

"Only my pride."

She felt like she should maybe say sorry, but she wasn't sorry. She'd fought him well that day, matched him with each swift swing his lightsaber, stepped in time with him in the snow, the Commander Kylo Ren in a dance with the Scavenger Girl from Nowhere.

She'd been afraid, but she'd also never more strong or more at peace with who she was as she had that day.

"How did you get out?" she asked. She'd pretty much left him for dead as soon as she had the opportunity, more worried about Finn at that moment than anything else.

"Hux."

"Hm," she nodded.

"I wasn't trying to kill you," he said.

"Then why were you fighting me?" She yawned.

"I wanted to get through to you."

She frowned, lifting her head off her pillow. "Get through to me?"

"Yes. You were strong in the Force. I'd heard about you before, but I didn't know that about you. That you had the Force."

It dawned on Rey than that he probably hadn't been surrounded by many Force-sensitive people since he'd left his parents and Luke. Just Snoke, and Rey wasn't sure he even counted as a person.

"You have a teacher now, though," he sighed in concession, stretching his arms over his head.

Her eyelids were so heavy now. Just laying here, listening to the few things he was saying and the steady beat of his heart was putting her to sleep.

"Mmmm," she intoned, noncommittal. Luke wasn't really showing her anything. Not yet anyway. But she had the resolve to wait him out until he started acting like the Jedi Master she knew he was underneath the posturing and refusal.

"And whatever this is," he added. He'd turned to face her. 

"Mmhmm." She shifted her legs, bringing them closer to her chest. They were somehow both nowhere near each other and closer than ever in this quiet moment.

The only sounds were the wind outside, the crash of the sea, the last few crackles of her fire. The in and out of his breathing, the pace of his heart, the rush of blood to her head.

She couldn't be certain, but the last thing she remembered hearing before falling into a deep sleep was Ben whispering goodnight to her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/8/18: Hello! Welcome to Chapter 4 of Fireside. I had a few rough days of writing where nothing seemed to be taking shape for a new segment for this work, but I'm pressing on. Thanks for your patience and continued kind comments and kudos - it really means a lot! 
> 
> Now, please enjoy. This next chapter is an angsty one.

Rey sat on the dirt floor of her hut, legs crossed, stoking the fire. Though it had been burning for hours now, poking at the flames gave her something to do. Something to take her mind off of everything. The monotony, the uncertainty of everything was starting to wear on her.

She'd paced around all evening grappling with questions that had no answers. _Why was it all taking so long? Had she really expected that Luke would be happy to see her? That he'd gladly pack up and hop back on the Falcon like no time had passed, that nothing had changed?_ She had been staring into the flames for hours, trying to discern something... anything. But here now, on the floor of her hut, all she saw was smoke.

Even though her fire held no answers, their constant flicker was relaxing in its own way. They danced around and shone without being directed, but could be encouraged with a stroke. Doing this repetitive motion, nudging the flames, was comforting.

She thought about the day she'd been down to the Dark Place. She'd gone there looking for answers too, and all the Force had shown her was herself. She'd been okay with that after she'd talked to Ben that night, but now, she was getting restless.

Right as the thought came to her, she sensed his presence.

"Ben." It was a statement of fact this time, not a question.

"Yeah."

His voice came from behind her, which was odd. Normally, when the bond connected them, he was straight in front of her.

"You're not happy to see me?" It sounded like he was... joking?

He'd sensed her thoughts. She didn't break her gaze away from the fire, even though she heard him approaching.

"It's not that."

"I know." He was standing right next to her now.

She swallowed, shifting her shawl up onto her shoulders. "Then why say that?" she clipped.

He took a seat beside her, facing the fire, and leaned back on his hands. "I'm not trying to invade your space, Rey."

She looked over at him, brows knit together, examining his face for any signs of condescension or smugness, but there was none to be found. No, he looked warm and open and real. He really wasn't trying to pick her brain or bother her. He was just here. _For her._

He cleared his throat, and she realized she'd stopped stoking the fire, that the stick she was using was now being engulfed in flames.

She swore under her breath and tossed it into the fire, suddenly missing the security of having something to do with her hands while he was this close.

"I don't understand why this is all taking so long." she finally said, unprompted. "I thought it would be different."

"He's stubborn," Ben said, shrugging. "He does things his way. Muscle memory. Repetition. Building character." He leaned back on his elbows, seeming so much more at ease than she was. "He's a Jedi."

Rey nodded. "You're right."

"He was like that at the academy."

She turned her head to look at him. "I thought you said you didn't remember much about that."

"No," he shook his head. "I don't remember much about being a kid," he clarified. "I remember plenty about being in the academy."

"I didn't think those were two separate things."

"They are. They aren't." _Was he smirking?_

She couldn't hide the condescending eye roll from crossing her face, a gesture leftover from being denied rations from Unkhar after a long day of backbreaking work. Ben didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't care.

"I was a boy before I lived in the academy," he said, nostalgic. "I was something else afterward." That was somber.

"Is that how you think about things?" She drew her knees up to her chest and stared back into the flames. "Before and After?"

"Yes," he admitted.

She looked over at him, the firelight playing across his face. He looked more vulnerable than he normally did, almost like a completely different person. At that moment, she was glad he'd stopped wearing his mask so much. Being able to look in his eyes, to see the freckles on his face and the lines on his forehead felt like a gift.

He caught her staring at him, and she quickly turned her attention back to the fire, embarrassed.

"Can you feel where I am?" she attempted to recover, clearing her throat. "Are you really here?"

He closed his eyes and exhaled. "I can feel warmth."

When he opened his eyes and looked back at her, the anger, the seething malice so often present the surface seemed to be pacified for the moment; held at bay. He looked so young. _Innocent. Afraid._ The words hung unspoken in the air between them. _He was remembering..._

She cocked her head to one side, refusing to break eye contact, searching his eyes, waiting for them to tell her something. "Show me," she whispered.

He closed his eyes, and she dropped into the memory with him. There was young Ben Solo, dressed in sandy colored robes, gangly, face full of youthfulness. He couldn't have been more than 10 or 11 years old, seated before a firepit, attempting to conjure a flame with no luck at all. He was becoming frustrated, trying to calm his emotions and regain focus. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to do it, a tiny spark alighting on the kindling. Then, a sudden darkness passed over the room, oozing into the room, a shadow that extinguished the spark, and all light and hope in its wake.

Rey felt it real as day, as if she was right there. Her skin prickled with goosebumps and her breath caught in her throat. Though she couldn't tell for certain, she knew that that dark presence was Snoke; felt the change in the atmosphere, the fear in young Ben Solo as soon as that coldness entered the room. The look on his boyhood face broke her heart.

They were back in front of her fire now. "You were so young," Rey said, hardly audible. Seeing him, vulnerable like that, young like that, being visited by this horrible presence overwhelmed her with sadness.

"So were you," he said. "All that time on Jakku. I saw."

"That... that was something else, Ben," she whispered. He stared ahead.

Rey then spoke aloud the words Ben had never really wanted to admit to himself. "Snoke really only cared about who your parents were, didn't he?" she asked softly. _Not about you_ , she thought, but couldn't say it aloud because it was too horrible.

Though it was a rhetorical question, it still stung. He swallowed, lips pursed together in a hard line. His voice caught in his throat, but his eyes began to water.

She'd just put words to things he'd been trying to pretend he didn't feel for years. This woman, this Scavenger from Nowhere, had disarmed him by speaking into reality thoughts he'd tried to keep shapeless and distant - out of self-preservation, out of survival. She cut him to the quick in ways nobody ever had before. And he didn't hate her for it. He should, but he didn't.

Rey was blinking hard to keep the tears from her eyes. _Why was she the one getting upset about this? It hadn't even happened to her._ "That wasn't fair," she said angrily, clenching her jaw.

"Maybe not. But it happened." He sounded so matter-of-fact, even as his voice wavered. He was always so matter-of-fact, and it baffled her.

"I hate him," she whispered, a tear escaping out of the corner of her eye.

"I do, too," he whispered back, scooting closer to her. Their knees touched, and they faced the flames, mourning for their lost innocence, staring into the shapeless future side-by-side.

"There are times we're talking," Rey started, not sure exactly where this line of thought was going to go. "And you're here, and I'm here, and it doesn't hurt so much. And then I see what you showed me and it's not... it's not simple." She sniffled. She knew was rambling but didn't stop herself. "It was easier when I was just a scavenger, when I could pretend my family was coming back for me." She bit her lip and turned to him. "It was easier when you were just a man behind a mask."

She couldn't bear all the weight anymore, and before she could think better of it, she was leaning into him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. Instantly, she was hit with a wave of relief - of affirmation and safety. She sighed, letting go and slumping further into him, still watching the fire. "Sometimes, I just want to go back to Before."

Ben cocked his head, looking down at this small person who was starting to take up so much space in his heart. Without thinking twice, he nuzzled into her hair, resting his head on top of hers. She smelled like damp dirt and green. "Me, too."

He took in the scent of the sea, the salt and smoke and sand. He was going to figure out where she was soon, and when he did, he was going to come for her. _To turn her over to_ _the First Order, or to take her far away from anyone or anything that could hurt them anymore..._ he hadn't decided yet.

They sat next to each other wordless, holding the other up, breathing in sync as they stared into the unknown. As the fire faded out, so did the connection, and they both collapsed into their cold beds, affirmed but unsatisfied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends!
> 
> This is kind of a monster chapter - it's about twice as long as the previous four.  
> I've been sitting on it for a few days because it felt like it just needed some extra attention. I think that's because this is likely the last installment of Fireside.  
> I'm not moving on from writing this pairing - I have a lot of ideas about things to write for them, actually, and I want to give myself some time to start exploring those!
> 
> Please enjoy this last chapter of Fireside. As always, I'm happy to commiserate about these two with you in the comments, so leave me your feels and we can cry together.

Ever since Rey had seen the Jedi tomes in the cave, she'd been dying to get her hands on them. They were certainly ancient, almost otherworldly, and she was curious about what kind of secrets laid inside them.

She hiked through the sleet and the cold, her feet taking her there as if she'd been a thousand times. Once inside, safe from the elements, she set to strike a fire. There wasn't exactly a designated place for her to build one, but she planned on staying inside for a while. She wasn't sure the Caretakers came in here, but hoped they'd understand if they found ashes later. Rey was aware of their annoyance toward her misgivings but banked on the thought that perhaps they were no longer shocked by her hapless antics. Frankly, she admired their patience with her.

Once the flame caught, she rested her staff against the knotted wood by the shelf holding the books and approached the shelf. She took a deep breath and reached for the book dead-center. It was brown and had an unfamiliar marking on the cover; it felt like old leather and smelled like damp. She wondered if it had ever seen the natural light of day.

Cracking it open, she began to study the inscriptions. Because that's all that the scribblings looked like to her - indecipherable inscriptions. She couldn't make any sense of the writing for the life of her; no idea what the words meant or what language they were even in for that matter. _Was there some kind of code or legend you needed to decipher these things? Was the Force supposed to show up and intervene, like some kind of divine translator_? She really didn't know how this stuff worked still, and at that moment, truly felt like an imposter.

She eventually gave up and put the worn book back before taking up a smaller, thinner book. Faded handwritten notes in a loopy script filled the front and back of each page, as if the author, in a stream of consciousness, had just expelled everything out of their brain and onto the pages. It was hardly legible, but she made out words every now and then - _Balance, Light, Darkness, Strength, Flexibility, Vulnerable._ _Balance. Balance._ So much about Balance.

She thumbed through the other books, too, but was met with more indecipherable text, due to outdated syntax or age. She wondered if Luke had ever read these books. Wondered if he'd miss them if she took a few...

She didn't let herself think twice before plucking the first book she'd picked up - the thickest - and the handwritten journal. She carefully placed them both in her pack, then set about extinguishing her fire before making the trek back to her hut.

By the time she arrived, it had stopped raining, and the sun was peeking out from the storm clouds. Rey soaked up the day's last little catches of warmth, closing her eyes and breathing in the salty air. She realized she hadn't spoken a word aloud all day.

The sun dipped beneath the surface of the sea, and she went inside for the night. It didn't take long before the wind picked up and began to howl against the hut's small window.

She struck a fire again and began unpacking her bag. She stashed the books under her pillow, the way she used to stash little trinkets she liked that Unkhar had no use for back on Jakku. Though no one had tried to rob her in her sleep back then, it didn't mean someone wouldn't eventually try. Scavengers robbed each other all the time.

Before her Awakening, before the Resistance and the First Order were real entities, made up of people with faces, all she'd wanted was to keep a hold of the few things that were truly hers. The tiny little shiny things that fit under her pillow, the doll she could clutch to her chest in the middle of the lonely night.

Now, it was more like she was trying to find her true inheritance, looking for it in these old books and in the wisdom of an old man who, thus far, had given her very little to go on.

Maybe she had no right to these books, but right now, they felt like hers, like she needed to protect them. She didn't feel bad for taking them. Not at all.

She sat down in front of her bed and began to meditate, opening up her mind to the things the Force wanted her to see. It didn't take long for her to drop into a place of emptiness, of greyness. She saw nothing in her mind's eye; even the crash of the sea and the howl of the wind faded as she dropped deeper and deeper into reflection, into the Grey Place.

It surprised her when, after an indeterminate amount of time, she heard a second set of lungs inhaling and exhaling. She knew she was alone in her hut, that her body was seated there, her eyes closed, emptying herself, surrendered to the Force. And yet, she knew she was absolutely not alone, hearing the rise and fall of someone else's breathing. The greyness around her began to warm, defrosting into oranges and yellows.

She smelled him then, clean, but not sterile. He smelled like leather, like something a craftsman had expertly fashioned. She didn't see him still - no, the seeing always seemed to come second. She always heard him first.

Tonight, she didn't call his name. She thought it, instead.

_"Ben?"_

_"Yes."_

She heard his response as if it was her own voice, clear as day in her own head.

 _Ben._ He acknowledged her whenever she called him by his given name. She hadn't thought much of it at first, but each time he responded, the more pride she felt welling up inside herself. She wasn't calling him his chosen name, the name he imparted to himself when he decided to take up the mantle of Darth Vader.

_Who was the last person who had called him by his birth name? Would he respond to anyone else who had?_

She recalled the events that day on the Bridge, tried to remember if Han had called him Ben. _He had, hadn't he?_

"You're thinking about him," Ben said, interrupting her train of thought.

"Of course I am," she replied. "It's not like you have a monopoly on thinking about people, Ben. That's ridiculous." She tried to sound lighthearted, but it came out a bit wooden.

"He did," Ben said, ignoring her attempt at a lighthearted comment. "He called me Ben that day."

As he formed into her sight, she took a breath, determined not to lose focus. He was sitting in much the same position she was, legs crossed but still looking tall and strong. _How did he always manage to look so tall, even when he was sitting down?_ She'd never understand.

She blinked back at him in her mind's eye, his confirmation washing over her uneasily.

_He'd killed the last person who had called him Ben._

_Why hadn't he killed her? Yet?_

"Always thinking I'm going to kill you," he said, in a wistful tone she didn't understand. "Why do you want to die so badly, Rey of Jakku?"

She hesitated to respond, pursing her lips. "I don't."

"Lie," he said, though his tone wasn't accusatory. No, it was calm. Just a statement of fact.

More silence. Always so much suspended silence between the two of them, all around them.

It stood; she didn't argue.

"I don't want to kill you." This wasn't the first time he'd told her that. "You're not letting me get through to you. This isn't about life or death, Rey."

She stared back at him, as if narrowing her eyes would help her harden herself to him. She didn't want to agree with him, didn't want to believe what he said; but deep down inside, she knew it was true. He really didn't want to kill her, and he never had.

They wanted the same things - to belong, to be understood. She'd never known anyone like him before. And he'd certainly never encountered anyone like her. She was his match in every way, as he was hers. But admitting that was scary. Vulnerable. Too much, maybe.

"You are getting through to me, Ben," she responded wryly. "How else would we be doing this if you weren't?"

He nodded in sustained silence, keeping his mouth closed as he looked at her, through her.

His gaze was making her uncomfortable tonight - she hadn't felt like this since the day he'd tried to pluck information out of her mind, and she'd pushed it back on him.

"No one had ever done that to me before," he said, breaking his silence. _He could hear everything she was thinking._ "Pushed back on me the way you did."

_Where was he going with this?_

"It scared me."

"It scared you?" she repeated him, almost in disbelief. She wouldn't admit it because it was so petty, but secretly, she couldn't help but feel proud of the knowledge that she'd made Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order, afraid. "But I'm nobody. Just a scavenger, some girl who'd never held a lightsaber, remember? That's what you said." _That's what everyone said..._

"That was Before."

She felt a quick pang of disappointment. "Before what?"

They'd somehow drifted closer to each other, still next to the fire, but facing each other. He looked close enough to touch.

"No one had ever pushed back on me like you did that day," he continued. "No one except Snoke. He did it to humiliate me. But not you." He scooted a little closer to her. "No, you did it because you wanted to understand me." Their knees were touching now, the fire crackling beside them. "No one has ever done that for me before."

He wouldn't stop looking at her, but she didn't avoid his eye contact. She was captivated. He sounded so _penitent. S_ he found herself compelled to listen to each word he was saying, to take his confession, to admonish him, to administer his penance.

He spoke lowly, almost in a whisper, "You know, you opened the bond that day. Not me. Not Snoke." He was looking at her like this was the most important thing she needed to hear, like their lives depended on it. He wouldn't stop, cutting straight through her bravado.

"Doing that, what you did... that was a gift, Rey." He paused, shaking his head in awe, in hopeful bewilderment. "You have no idea."

He reached out one hand, the same hand that had reached for her the first time they'd touched. "You are a gift."

She didn't flinch. She didn't turn or move away. No, she sat still, rooted to the ground. Time seemed to slow down, and she let him cradle her cheek in his hand.

"Ben," she whispered as she felt herself lean forward, moving to close the gap between them. _Ben._

She was taking him in, every inch of his sadness, the depths of his fear and loneliness, staring unafraid at this man whom she didn't fully understand but felt bound to, more than anything else in her short life.

Their foreheads touched, and she bit down on her lip. She acknowledged his heartbeat, welcomed the cadence of his breathing - familiar sounds. _When had these become soothing to her, her favorite sounds?_ Being this close to him, noticing his eyelashes, brushing her nose against his - it all rendered her wordless, breathless.

She didn't know if it was okay to do this, to be like this with him, to feel the way she was feeling. All of the blood was rushing to her head; her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

She'd never been close to another person like this before. She was probably supposed to be scared, or nervous, or repulsed... hells, anyone on the outside looking in, regardless of allegiance, would have wanted her to be angry at him - indignant, or at very least, apathetic. But no. She felt none of those things.

Instead, she felt steady, solid. Completely and utterly present. Somehow perfectly at peace and yet never more electrically alive than she was right then.

 _This connectedness, this Bond, this man_ \- it was all igniting something inside of her she knew could not be quelled.

"I burn for you, too, Rey," he spoke inside her head. "Today and every day since that day on my ship. And for as long as I breathe."

Their lips drew together, and everything went fuzzy.


End file.
